Wan Li's first day in the Yuan household had been overwhelming — frightening, humiliating, exhausting.
But her first week was something else entirely.
If the first day had felt like drowning, the week that followed felt like becoming water — shapeless, silent, unnoticed.
--
DAY 2 — A SMALL SHADOW
Wan Li woke before dawn again.
Su Yan warmed her hands before handing her a cloth to wash. "Miss… the sun isn't even up."
Wan Li shook her head. "If I sleep… people will think I am lazy."
Su Yan opened her mouth, then closed it. There was no arguing with Wan Li's sense of duty — it was all she'd ever been taught.
So she washed her face with cold water until her cheeks hurt.
Today, she would fold linens again.
She hoped she would not embarrass herself.
--
At the Laundry Hall
Whispers greeted her immediately.
"Oh, she came early again."
"Trying to please people."
"It won't work."
Wan Li lowered her head.
Auntie Rong gave her another pile of linens, slightly smaller than yesterday's — a mercy, perhaps.
Wan Li folded carefully, slowly. She remembered the edges, the corners, the pressure of her fingers.
She still made mistakes.
But fewer.
One maid grudgingly muttered, "At least she learns."
Wan Li's head snapped up in surprise.
But the maid was already turning away.
Still — that single, reluctant acknowledgment held Wan Li upright for the rest of the morning.
--
DAY 3 — Two Sisters Who Disliked Her Before Seeing Her
On the third morning, Wan Li followed Su Yan down one of the quieter corridors to sweep fallen leaves near the covered walkway. The air was crisp. For a moment, she thought the day might be peaceful.
Then—
Laughter drifted from around the corner.
Elegant, confident laughter.
Older girls.
Teenagers.
Wan Li froze.
The voices floated closer — bright, mocking, careless.
"Mother says she looks frail. Honestly, what did she expect from a girl raised in a dying palace?"
Wan Li's breath stopped.
Another voice chimed in, sharper and more arrogant:
"She came here in rags. Rags. Can you imagine? And they expect us to treat her with respect?"
Wan Li's fingers tightened around the broom.
Rags…? I was in disguise… Mother… dressed me so I…
Her ears burned.
The first voice continued, "Father is gone now. His old promises died with him. Why keep that little princess here at all?"
A pause.
A whisper.
"I heard she's supposed to be engaged to our third brother. Ridiculous."
Wan Li stiffened so hard she almost dropped the broom.
Engaged.
To their brother.
Her cheeks burned with a mix of shame and disbelief.
Another laugh, crueler:
"She's not worthy. She'll only bring trouble. If she weren't under Madam's protection, the servants would've thrown her out already."
The two girls stepped into view as they strolled past the corner:
Miss Yuan Qingling — fourteen, beautiful, sharp-eyed, dressed in pale lilac silk.
Miss Yuan Qiuhe — thirteen, sweet-faced but cunning, her hair adorned with ivory pins.
The concubine-born sisters.
Both ignored Wan Li completely as they walked past…
until Qiuhe glanced sideways and smirked.
"Oh," she said lightly, "there she is."
Wan Li's chest tightened painfully.
Qingling didn't even bother lowering her voice.
"She looks fragile enough to blow away."
Qiuhe giggled. "Hopefully she doesn't break before Mother gets to use her."
They disappeared down the hall, their laughter echoing like needles.
Wan Li stood frozen, staring at the floor.
Her small voice cracked:
"…Su Yan… they dislike me already."
Su Yan clenched her jaw. "They don't know you, Miss."
"But I heard them," Wan Li whispered. "They think I'll… bring trouble."
Her eyes filled, but she blinked fast — terrified of crying where someone might see.
"I didn't ask to be here," she said softly. "I didn't ask for any of this…"
Su Yan moved beside her, placing a steadying hand on her back.
"I know, Miss. But this is only the beginning. You must endure."
Wan Li lowered her head.
She would endure.
Because she had no choice.
Because her mother told her to.
Because this house — even if it hated her — was the only home she had now.
--
DAY 4 — A SLIVER OF KINDNESS
This morning, as Wan Li folded linens again, a soft voice approached her.
The same maid who mocked her the first day.
"You're… improving," the girl muttered awkwardly.
Wan Li blinked.
No one had praised her. Not her entire time here.
"I… I tried very hard," she whispered.
The maid cleared her throat. "Well. Keep at it."
That was all.
But Wan Li's hands felt steadier after that.
--
DAY 5 — TROUBLE
It was after lunch when trouble finally found her.
Wan Li and Su Yan were sweeping the small courtyard in front of their room when a crashing sound made Su Yan jump.
A porcelain vase lay shattered near the steps.
Wan Li blinked. "W-what…?"
A senior servant stormed toward them. "You two! Did you break this?"
Wan Li gasped. "No—I—"
But the woman cut her off. "Don't lie. I saw you standing here."
Su Yan stepped forward defensively. "We didn't touch it! It fell from—"
The servant pointed at Wan Li sharply. "I saw her standing nearest!"
Wan Li shook her head frantically. "I-I didn't—"
The woman grabbed Wan Li's wrist.
Hard.
Wan Li winced. "Ow—!"
"Speak properly! Do not whisper!"
Su Yan stepped between them. "Don't touch her!"
The woman raised her hand as if to strike.
Wan Li's eyes widened—
But Auntie Rong appeared suddenly, her presence like a shadow falling over the courtyard.
"What's going on?"
The senior servant straightened immediately. "Auntie Rong! They broke Madam's vase!"
Auntie Rong surveyed the fragments calmly, then turned to Wan Li. "Did you touch this vase?"
Wan Li shook her head desperately. "N-no! I didn't! I wasn't even—"
Her voice cracked.
Auntie Rong's gaze flicked to the servants high above, where a balcony overlooked the courtyard.
One maid there hid something behind her back — too hastily.
Auntie Rong narrowed her eyes.
"I see," she said coolly.
Then she turned to the senior servant.
"This vase fell from the balcony. Not from their hands."
The servant paled.
"A-Auntie Rong, I—"
"If you want to punish someone," Auntie Rong said sharply, "punish those who misuse the upper corridors, not a twelve-year-old girl who barely speaks."
Wan Li's breath trembled.
Auntie Rong looked at her again.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
But fairly.
"Go back to your tasks," she said. "Both of you."
Wan Li bowed. "Thank you…"
But Auntie Rong had already turned away.
--
DAY 6 — UNSEEN, UNHEARD
Despite being cleared of blame, Wan Li couldn't shake the feeling that she was becoming a nuisance again.
Servants still watched her with distrust.
Some avoided her.
Some whispered insults.
Some ignored her entirely.
She moved quietly — like a small, nervous shadow.
But she continued her tasks:
Folding linens.
Sweeping corridors.
Fetching water.
Organizing small boxes of sewing supplies.
She never argued.
Never raised her voice.
Never refused anything.
And slowly, ever so slowly, one or two maids stopped glaring.
A few even let her sit closer while folding.
One of them muttered, "At least she doesn't complain."
Another said, "She learns quickly."
Wan Li clung to these tiny mercies like lifelines.
--
DAY 7 — THE FIRST WEEK ENDS
By the end of the week, Wan Li's hands were red and rough from work.
Her back ached from bending over linens.
Her legs were tired from sweeping and walking.
But her eyes—
Her eyes looked calmer.
Still sad.
Still frightened.
Still fragile.
But calmer.
As she sat with Su Yan on their small veranda that evening, Wan Li whispered:
"Su Yan… did I do well this week?"
Su Yan looked at her — truly looked.
At her trembling fingers.
Her soft braid.
Her scraped knuckles.
Her quiet determination.
"You did far more than well," Su Yan said gently.
Wan Li lowered her head.
Her voice was barely audible.
"Mother would be proud?"
Su Yan swallowed hard.
"Yes, Miss. She would."
Wan Li clasped her hands together tightly.
"Then… I will try harder next week."
Su Yan hesitated. "Miss… no one expects you to—"
"No," Wan Li interrupted softly. "If I become good… people will accept me. And… and when the youngest son comes back… he will not be disappointed."
Her cheeks pinkened at the last line.
She still did not understand romance.
Or desire.
Or ambition.
Or politics.
She only understood one thing:
Her mother's last promise.
"He will be your future."
So Wan Li whispered into the quiet courtyard:
"I will… become someone worthy."
The lantern flickered.
--
TBC